Lessons
by elbcw
Summary: 'Aramis opened his eyes and blinked a few times, when he found he could not see anything he could not help panicking a little. His breathing sped up even more so when he realised his hands were tied behind his back, his ankles and knees were also bound. And he was gagged; a cloth stuffed into his mouth and a rag tight around his head to keep it in place.'
1. Chapter 1

They led their horses into the stable, out of the sun, the beasts had been ridden hard in order to reach Labelle's residence as soon as possible. They intended to leave them in the shelter of the stable for the short time they would be with Labelle.

As they entered the stable a disturbance caused them to pause. A man, a few years younger than either of the musketeers was holding a boy by the arm and shaking him. The young lad looked terrified.

'You stupid boy, you should have stopped it falling. Now it's broken and useless.'

The man was yelling at the cowed boy who was looking up at him with wide tear-filled eyes.

'Please, I tried to stop it...it's been loose for weeks...we told you.'

Beside the man and boy was a window shutter, propped up under the window it must have served, the hinges were rusted through.

'You snivelling little wretch,' yelled the man pulling at the sobbing boy's arm, 'I'll have you thrashed.

The man raised his right arm in preparation to strike the boy.

'What do you think you are doing?' said the man as he found his wrist held firmly above his head.

'What do you think you're doing? That lad has done nothing wrong. 'e couldn't have prevented that falling. And you know that.'

Porthos remained where he was, glaring at the man until he let go of the boy who took his chance to run off and cower with the other stable boys.

The man looked as if he wanted to say something but could not find the words. His expression was one of anger.

When he eventually found his voice, he spoke with an acerbic tone, 'get your hand off me, you're no better than those filthy creatures the master allows to tend to the horses. The horses have more right to be here than the likes of you.'

Porthos' eyes widened in fury at the insult. His breathing quickened. As he was about to speak again he found himself manoeuvred out of the way by Aramis who turned to the man and spoke with an eloquent tone.

'Monsieur, please forgive my friend, he cannot have seen the events leading up to the unfortunate mishap caused by the boy. If you will accept our apologies.'

Aramis made a slight bow to the man and smiled graciously at him. The man narrowed his eyes at Aramis for a few seconds as he tried to think of something further to say. When he could not come up with a response he turned on his heels and left the stable.

When the man had disappeared around the corner Porthos turned to Aramis and grabbed his shoulders firmly pulling him up slightly.

'Why did you stop me teaching 'im a lesson?' he said with a look of annoyance on his face.

Aramis looked at him for a few seconds before replying, 'because he was about to stab you with the dagger he was holding in his left hand…'

Porthos furrowed his brow as he took in the information.

'Oh…' he said quietly.

Aramis raised an eyebrow.

Porthos' expression changed to one of embarrassment. He released the marksman and smoothed the rucked-up leather of the sleeves on his doublet.

'Sorry.'

'That's quite alright my friend,' replied Aramis with an amused smile, 'I thought you might prefer a moment of embarrassment to the feel of steel being pushed into your stomach.'

'It was preferable,' replied Porthos with a slight smile and a nod.

'Please monsieur,' said the boy who had caused the issue in the first place.

They both turned to him. The skinny lad was stood in front of his fellow stable boys.

'Thank you, 'e would 'ave 'it me if you ain't stopped 'im.'

'Who was he?' asked Aramis.

'Simon, the head groom,' said one of the other lads who had taken a couple of steps forward to stand with the other boy.

'If we were to have a word with your master would it make your lives worse?'

All the boys nodded.

'Then we won't say anything,' said Porthos was a sad smile.

'I'll see your 'orses get looked after proper,' said the boy Porthos had helped.

The two musketeers left the stable boys to their work. They both knew it was a fine line between being in a job where they had food and shelter and being on the streets for the young boys. They did not want to jeopardise their wellbeing.

'You alright?' asked Aramis as they walked away, 'you shouldn't have to put up with people talking to you like that.'

'I know, but I'm used to it...and you have an uncanny ability to come to my rescue every time it 'appens.'

'Well, you are a damsel in distress after all…'

Aramis ducked as Porthos swung his arm around to thump him good-naturedly.

They made their way towards the main house, each man keen to get the message delivered so that they could return to the garrison.

MMMM

Simon had not been around when Porthos and Aramis returned to the stable to retrieve their horses. The stable boys had been waiting for them, holding the reins of each horse.

Aramis had given each lad a coin from his purse with a smile, 'spend it wisely,' he said, 'that should be enough for you to buy one of the meat pies they sell in the market just down the road.'

The boys all beamed up at him as he mounted his horse, Porthos rolled his eyes as they had trotted away.

The following morning Porthos was wondering where his friend was. He stood watching the garrison gate as the other Musketeers gathered for muster.

'What's up with you?' asked d'Artagnan as he came to stand beside Porthos.

'Nothing, just wondering where Aramis is, he's not usually late...and I'm sure he ain't with one of 'is ladies.'

'I am sure he is fine, he is an adult after all,' said Athos as he joined them.

Treville gave out their assignments, he paused when he saw that only three of the four inseparables were standing in front of him but did not say anything. After dismissing the men, he looked towards them with an expression that told them to stay where they were.

'Where is he?'

'I don't know sir,' replied Porthos, glancing towards the gate again.

Treville looked at Athos and d'Artagnan in turn. Athos shook his head whilst d'Artagnan shrugged his shoulders.

'Check his rooms whilst you are patrolling and anywhere else you think he may have been...detained,' said Treville with a sigh.

The three nodded and walked from the garrison.

'When did you last see him?' asked d'Artagnan.

'After we were dismissed yesterday, some of us went to The Peacock for dinner, I played cards for a bit...he was flirting with the barmaids, then we walked home, I left him at the end of his street. I walked back with Barbotin and a couple of the others.'

'Then let's start at his rooms,' said d'Artagnan leading the way.

MMMM

Aramis opened his eyes and blinked a few times, when he found he could not see anything he could not help panicking a little. His breathing sped up even more so when he realised his hands were tied behind his back, his ankles and knees were also bound. And he was gagged; a cloth stuffed into his mouth and a rag tight around his head to keep it in place.

His head ached, he knew he had a concussion, but it was not bad enough to cloud his judgement. He knew as long as he took it easy he would be fine. But he was bound, gagged and blindfolded, would 'taking it easy' be an option?

He was lying on his side on what, he guessed, was a stone floor. He pulled at the rope on his wrists, it was tied tightly. He guessed the rope had been wound around his wrists up his forearms a few times as his shoulders had been pulled back painfully. The bindings on his ankles and knees was also tight, he could not move either leg independently.

He made an effort to calm his breathing and listened intently for any sounds that would help him work out where he was. He heard nothing. The silence was deafening. He was sure he was alone. He tried to call out, the sound muffled by the gag. He paused, hoping to hear a response from someone, anyone. But again, silence was his only reply.

Aramis was sure he was alone. He had no idea where he was, or how he had got there. The last thing he remembered was leaving Porthos and the other Musketeers at the corner of his road. He must have been attacked as he walked along the road. If he escaped he would have to put up with teasing from the others that he had been taken so easily.

He wondered if any of the others had been taken as well as him. Attacks on soldiers were not uncommon but being kidnapped was. Had he been taken for a reason? Or was it just a random attack?

He started to rub the blindfold over the stone floor in an attempt to push it off. He would need his sight if he was going to escape.

He hoped he could escape.

MMMM

Porthos pushed the door to Aramis' rooms open, he stepped in holding the door open for d'Artagnan.

'He's not been here,' said Porthos.

'How can you tell?' replied d'Artagnan as he looked around the room wondering if his friend had a sixth sense.

Porthos held up two unopened letters addressed to their friend.

'One from his cousin...and what looks like an invoice for something…'

A creak from the floorboards outside the room caused them both to turn.

'His landlord has not seen him since early yesterday,' Athos said from the doorway.

'Let's check along the street outside,' suggested d'Artagnan, 'we may find some clue as to what's happened to him.'

'You two do that,' said Porthos as he led the way down the stairs, 'I'm going to visit his ladies, see if any of them 'ave seen him.'

With a nod from Athos, Porthos walked away.

D'Artagnan and Athos slowly walked along the street looking for anything out of place. It quickly became apparent that if there had been any clue to their friend's disappearance it had been destroyed by the locals going about their business.

'This is pointless,' said d'Artagnan as he looked around watching a cart and horses make its way along the street.

'I agree. We should head back to the garrison. Perhaps Porthos will have had more luck.'

MMMM

With the blindfold pushed off, which had taken far more effort than Aramis would have liked, he looked around the small room. The only light came from a torch burning by the door. He watched it for a few seconds and realised he would be plunged into darkness when it burnt out.

The room was bare. A single step led to a heavy looking wooden door. There were no windows and no furniture. The door was well fitted, he did not think any light would enter around its edges. The torch would burn out and he would be in the dark.

He realised his breathing had quickened again. Understandable, he thought, he really could not work out how he was going to escape. But, he had been left alive and blindfolded which implied to him that his captors would come back for him. But to what end?

Painfully he managed to push himself up to sit, he leaned against the wall trying to bring his breathing back under control. The ache in his head had lessened a little. The gag had dried his mouth leaving him thirsty. He wondered how long he had been there. How long he would remain there. If they did not want him to die of thirst they could not leave him for more than a few days. Days sat in the small, soon to be dark room, did not appeal to Aramis.

He looked at the stone step, its edges were not worn, this was either a new building or one that did not have much activity within it. The step had a relatively sharp edge to it. Could he use it to cut the rope? It was a long shot, but the only shot he had.

Slowly, awkwardly, Aramis shuffled himself over to the step, he turned himself around and began to painstakingly rub at the edge of the step with his bound wrists. He had no idea how long it would take, but it was the only thing he could think of to try.

MMMM

Back at the garrison Athos and d'Artagnan waited for Porthos to return. A young lad walked up to the Musketeer on guard duty at the gate. Athos watched as he spoke briefly to the man who pointed towards himself and d'Artagnan.

The lad walked toward them holding a letter.

'The man said I was to give this to Monsieur Porthos…' said the lad.

'What man?' asked d'Artagnan.

'Don't know, he hid his face.'

'I will see that Porthos gets it,' said Athos taking the letter and handing the lad a coin. Smiling the lad ran from the garrison without looking back.

Athos looked at the letter, it was merely addressed to 'Porthos', there was no clue on the outside as to its origin.

'What are you doing?' asked d'Artagnan as Athos opened the letter and began to read it.

'It is about Aramis,' said Athos as he read, 'someone has taken him captive as payback for something Porthos did. And to teach Aramis a lesson for stopping justice being done.'

Porthos had entered the garrison yard, 'Pierre said there was a letter for me, why are you reading it?'

Athos handed it to him, the annoyance on Porthos' face disappeared quickly.

'Simon,' he said looking up at his brothers, a look of shock on his face, 'he's the groom at the house Aramis and I visited yesterday, he was about to hit one of the stable boys, I stopped him. He was abusive to me and Aramis intervened, stopped the man from stabbing me.'

Porthos read the letter again before allowing d'Artagnan to take it and read it for himself.

'This is my fault, Simon 'as taken Aramis to get back at me…'

Athos looked at Porthos as he said quietly, 'this is not your fault, Porthos, you did the right thing. This man is the one at fault. Neither of you needs to be taught a lesson. As neither of you did anything wrong.'

'There's no indication as to where Aramis is, or what Simon wants,' said d'Artagnan as he finished reading.

'We can only assume that this Simon will send another note. If he had harmed or killed Aramis in retribution for your supposed crimes, I doubt he would still be missing.'

Porthos nodded slowly, 'I hope you're right.'

'In the meantime, I suggest we try to find Simon and have a word with him,' suggested Athos as he put his hat on and began to walk towards the stables.

MMMM

He was lying on the stone floor again. Aramis did not remember falling asleep or passing out. His arms hurt from his continued efforts to wear through the rope on the stone step. He was thirstier than before, the activities making him fatigued.

The concept of time passed eluded him, he found that he hated not knowing how long he had been incarcerated. But he hated not knowing why more.

The torch had burnt down further, he must have been unconscious for a while, which worried him. The longer it took him to get free of the rope the more chance there was of his captors returning. Aramis wanted to be gone before anyone returned.

It occurred to him that if he were able to get free of the rope he would still have to tackle the door. He twisted around to look at it. A simple lock, he knew he could pick it. Porthos had taught him how to deal with locks, he had a slim blade hidden in his boot that would do the job. He hoped it was still there, a cursory search of his person would have missed it. If the rope around his ankles were not so tight he might have been able to retrieve it. Once the ropes were gone he could probably pick the lock. Although if there were bolts on the other side he could not deal with them. He just had to hope that luck would be on his side. He did not feel particularly lucky as he glanced back at the torch. He would probably be picking the lock in the dark. He shifted back to lean against the step and resume his efforts to break the rope.

He was still thirsty, and tired and his arms hurt, not to mention the pain he was still suffering in his head. Aramis was not a happy Musketeer.

MMMM

Treville gave them leave to investigate Aramis' disappearance without question. Their Captain was as concerned as they were. He had spent a few minutes talking to Porthos, assuring the man that it was not his fault Aramis had been taken. But Porthos was still blaming himself.

When Porthos had described to them, in detail, what had happened between himself, Aramis and Simon, Athos had been appalled at the man's behaviour towards his friend. He was also pleased that Aramis had intervened despite it now meaning he was missing, presumably being held somewhere by the groomsman. Athos wondered what Simon hoped to achieve with his little display of power over them. He could not expect to get away with it. Kidnapping a Musketeer, was akin to an attack on the Crown and would be dealt with severely.

They approached Labelle's house together. Athos dismounted and walked toward the house, whilst Porthos and d'Artagnan waited outside.

He had to wait for a few minutes before Labelle would see him. The man was sat at his desk in a book-lined study. Labelle was in his fifties and seemed very disinterested in Athos, it took a few seconds for him to look up from his papers.

'Monsieur,' said Athos as politely as he could, 'I would like permission to speak to your groom, Simon.'

'Why?'

'I believe he is involved in the disappearance of one of my men. We have received a letter from Simon stating that he has my Musketeer.'

'Simon has run off, he was never particularly reliable anyway, I cannot help you. I have more pressing matters. I need to engage a new groomsman for a start.'

Labelle waved his hand, dismissing Athos from the room and went back to looking at the papers on his desk.

Athos did not move, 'do you have an address for the man? Any help you can give will be appreciated.'

Labelle looked back up, 'I said, I cannot help you. Leave my property now.'

Athos nodded and turned to leave the room, he did not bother to close the door behind him as he left.

As he walked back to his brothers he saw the young boys from the stable watching him. Knowing that they were the reason the incident had started in the first place he walked across to them. They shrank back from him a little as he approached, he removed his hat before speaking to them.

'Hello,' he said, 'do you remember my friend from yesterday?'

Athos pointed to Porthos who waved at them with a smile.

'Yes sir,' said one of the boys, 'him and his friend was good to us. His friend gave us each a coin. We spent it on a pie each.'

Athos smiled, Aramis was far too generous.

'Our friend has gone missing,' continued Athos, the boys looked a little worried, 'we think that Simon might have hurt him. Do you know where Simon is?'

Two of the three boys shook their heads. The third one looked at the ground.

Athos gently placed his hand on the shoulder of the boy who looked up at him, he looked a little scared.

'If you know anything you must tell me, you might help our friend.'

The boy thought for a moment before speaking quietly, 'when we was gettin' our pies, I saw Simon.'

'Where was this?'

'He was goin' in the tavern, the one with the scary dog on the picture...he 'ad a gun in his belt. I ain't never seen 'im wiv a gun before...it 'ad fancy drawings on it.'

Aramis' guns fit the description the boy had given, and Athos knew the tavern, The Black Dog.

'Thank you, you have been very helpful. Now get back to work, before your master catches you talking to me.'

The boys all scampered off, disappearing into the stable. Athos walked back to Porthos and d'Artagnan.

'I think I know where we might find Simon.'

MMMM


	2. Chapter 2

The effort of rubbing the ropes on the stone step had taken its toll on Aramis, he was panting when the rope finally snapped apart and could not stop himself from flopping to the floor on his side. Much as he wanted to get on with untying the ropes from his legs he did not have the strength to move for a few minutes.

He lay watching the torch, knowing he was already on borrowed time, the light had dimmed steadily as he had worked on the ropes. The sooner he could gather his wits and get to work on the rest of his restraints the better.

He winced in pain as the blood started to flow properly to his hands again, he flexed his fingers in an attempt to speed up the process. As he got his breathing under control and fought the urge to close his eyes and sleep the torch faded away.

Aramis watched as the flame on the spent torch was reduced to glowing embers and then nothing. He was left in darkness. He would have to do everything by touch.

With difficulty he pushed himself up to sit, he found the wall and leaned back on it for a few seconds. He reached up and pulled the gag from his mouth, coughing several times as he did so. A cold glass of water would be most welcome, he thought.

Now that he was in darkness movement did not leave his world spinning, although it did still make him feel sick. He waited for the nausea to pass before leaning forward and feeling along his legs until he found the rope that encircled his knees. With difficulty he untied the rope, the action leaving him breathless again.

The rope around his ankles proved harder to tackle. His hands were shaking with the effort and he found himself having to pause several times to sit upright, the concussion causing him more problems than he had originally thought. Aramis found the process frustrating. The quicker he tried to untie the rope the less cooperative his fingers were. He cursed several times at the time it was taking to free himself.

When he finally untied the rope, he sighed with relief and searched his right boot for the thin blade. He found himself smiling at his first piece of luck, the blade was where he expected it to be. Keeping a tight hold on it, he felt around with his left hand to find the step and the door.

Slowly kneeling up he felt up the door until he found the lock, he hoped the lock was a simple one that he could open quickly.

MMMM

D'Artagnan pushed the door to the Black Dog open. He looked around the room as he held the door for Athos. There were a few people dotted about. A serving girl was flirting with a couple of red guardsmen in the corner, whilst a couple of old men were deep in conversation at the table closest to the fire.

The tavern keeper watched the two musketeers as they scanned the room. Athos walked toward him whilst d'Artagnan remained by the door. Porthos had described Simon to them both, they hoped they would find the man in the tavern.

A movement on the far side of the room drew d'Artagnan's attention.

'Athos,' he said nodding in the direction of the man they were looking for.

Simon was staring at them both, wide-eyed. He was edging away toward a back door. Athos changed direction and headed towards him. The tavern keeper watching the drama unfold with interest.

Simon had reached the door and was trying to draw the bolt back whilst watching Athos advance on him. D'Artagnan took a few steps forward, as Simon managed to open the door. He hurried outside. D'Artagnan sighed, as he walked calmly across the room following Athos, who had reached the door and opened it to reveal Simon being held firmly by the collar of his jacket. The man looked terrified as he stared up at Porthos who was glaring at him.

'We want a word with you,' said Porthos, with menace.

'Monsieurs,' said the tavern keeper.

D'Artagnan looked across at the man, who had come out from behind his bar, throwing the cloth he was holding across his shoulder.

'Would you like a private room? I'm guessing you need to have a chat with your friend there about something.'

'Thank you, monsieur,' said d'Artagnan with a smile as he watched Porthos haul the unfortunate groom back into the tavern. They followed as the tavern keeper led them to a back room, where several barrels of wine and spirits were being stored.

'Take as much time as you need,' the man said with a wink as he shut the door.

Simon had found his voice and tried to shrug away from Porthos' grasp while speaking, 'get off me, I haven't done anything wrong…'

Athos held up the letter Simon had sent. Simon stilled his protests.

'Where is he?' asked Athos his voice betraying no emotion.

'You didn't tell us in your note,' said Porthos as he twisted the leather of the man's jacket.

Simon looked defeated.

'Did you think you were going to get away with it?' asked d'Artagnan

'He stopped me teaching the idiotic lad a lesson...then the other one interfered…'

D'Artagnan watched Porthos' expression harden.

'And why did Aramis 'ave to interfere?'

Simon tried to wriggle free from Porthos again but did not answer.

'Tell us what you have done with our friend,' said Athos.

'Tell him to let me go, and I'll tell you where he is.'

Athos rolled his eyes and shook his head, 'I suggest you tell us, now or…'

Porthos pulled Simon closer and said quietly in his ear, 'or I will make you tell us.'

Simon shivered and tried to pull away again, 'I was going to let him go...I just wanted to teach you both a lesson...He's in the empty house along the road, towards the church, the house has a broken upstairs window.'

'Is he hurt?' asked d'Artagnan as Porthos lessoned his grip on the man.

Simon looked down as he replied, 'I had to hit him hard, I knew I wouldn't be able to fight either of you, he was unconscious when I left him.'

Athos stepped forward to push Porthos back a couple of steps when it became apparent the big musketeer was about to hit Simon.

'You two go, I will wait with our friend.'

Simon looked a little relieved that Porthos was going.

D'Artagnan led the way back through the tavern, he nodded his thanks to the tavern keeper who said as they passed, 'my pleasure, he is a nuisance in here most nights. It's about time he got what's coming to him.'

MMMM

He could not help a quiet cheer of triumph when the door clicked open. Aramis sighed with relief as he pulled the door towards him. Beyond the door, he had hoped to find some light, but only darkness greeted him. Not wanting to risk standing, he felt his way forward with an outstretched hand and found another step, followed by another. The room he was being kept in was at the bottom of a flight of stone steps.

Slowly and as quietly as he could manage Aramis made his way up the steps, keeping low as he did so. The steady thump of his headache meant he did not trust himself to stand on the dark steps. The lack of water, rest, and his concussion had left him with frequent dizzy spell and waves of nausea.

His wandering, searching hand found another door. Aramis managed to pull himself up to stand using the handle on his side of the door. Hoping the door was not locked he turned the handle, the door was not locked. He pushed the door wondering as he did so if he would meet any resistance on the other side. Aramis knew he was in no state to fight anyone.

What Aramis had not planned for was the sudden onslaught of sunlight that met him. He had been in total darkness for some time, the shock of the light on his eye caused him to gasp in pain and stumble back. He flung his hands out to the sides and managed to stop himself from falling back down the steps, pulling himself forward to collapse on the steps, his eyes screwed shut.

Panting, he slowly opened his eyes. The initial shock of the brightness of the daylight eased, but he found he could not get beyond a squinted view. Shading his eyes with his left hand he reached up and slowly pushed the door the rest of the way open.

Aramis sat on the top step for a few minutes as he waited for his assorted symptoms to fade again. As his breathing settled he listened carefully, he was by now sure he was alone. The noise he had made opening the door and almost falling would have drawn the attention of anyone in the vicinity.

As his sight returned to some normality he looked around. He guessed he was in a house in the city, it appeared abandoned.

Aramis slowly climbed to his feet, steadying himself against the wall. He walked along the hallway he had found himself in, with one hand trailing along the wall as he did so for added support.

A noise behind him, caused him to turn quickly, which was a mistake, he had to grab wildly at the edge of a door frame to stop himself from crashing to the ground. He managed to pull himself around into the room, a spindly chair the only item within.

Aramis heard the noise again and knew that someone had entered the house. With no weapon other than the small knife he had used on the door, Aramis picked up the chair and held it out, ready to swing it at whoever had entered the house.

He knew he would not be able to put up a fight, but he was not going to give in too easily.

MMMM

Porthos walked quickly along the road, the worry on his face was evident and he knew it. He and d'Artagnan looked carefully at each house as they passed it. As they drew nearer to the church Porthos started to wonder if Simon had lied to them.

'There,' said d'Artagnan pointing upwards, 'broken window.'

Porthos followed d'Artagnan toward the house with the broken window. D'Artagnan pushed at the door, when it did not budge he took a step back and kicked it hard. It opened on the second kick, swinging back and hitting the wall.

Porthos took the lead into the house, which appeared empty. They walked across the hallway. D'Artagnan grabbed Porthos' arm and stopped him pointing across to one of the open doors leading off to the side.

The shadow of a man could be seen, they recognised it as Aramis, he appeared to be holding something, a chair, out to the side. Porthos realised Aramis had armed himself against a potential foe. Porthos sighed with relief and took a couple of steps forward. D'Artagnan stopped him again.

'Aramis, it's OK, it's us,' said the musketeer.

Porthos was almost amused to see the shadow of his friend visibly wilt, put the chair that he was holding down and sit heavily on it.

They reached the room together and peered in.

Aramis was sat sideways on the rickety chair, his arm hooked over the backrest, his breathing a little fast, his head bowed slightly. Their friend's face was half covered with dried blood and bruising. Porthos was impressed Aramis was still conscious, he was blinking and looked exhausted.

'How did you find me?' asked Aramis, as Porthos crouched in front of him and reached up to push the hair from his face.

'Simon told us where you were,' said d'Artagnan.

'Simon?'

'The groomsman from Labelle's estate. The one I wanted to teach a lesson to.'

Aramis looked a little shocked, 'Simon, knocked me out and left me here?'

Porthos managed a chuckle, 'he did say he hit you pretty hard, I don't think you stood a chance.'

The unfocused marksman swayed a bit. Porthos grabbed his shoulder to steady him.

'Are you hurt, other than your head?'

'Don't think so, but I'm thirsty...how long have I been here?'

Porthos glanced back at d'Artagnan with concern. Aramis must have realised what their worry was.

'The room I was in had no windows...there was a torch, but it burnt down...I have no idea how long it took me to get out.'

'We think he took you last night, after we left the tavern.'

Porthos watched as Aramis thought for a moment, he looked confused, 'it feels longer than that. It felt like I was in there for days.'

'I'll get you some water,' said d'Artagnan as he turned to leave the room.

Porthos listened as the increasingly weary Aramis described how he had awoken in the featureless room, bound and gagged and managed to free himself and escape. Porthos could tell his friend would not be able to stay awake for much longer, the energy was draining from him fast.

D'Artagnan returned with water and some cloths. As they went about cleaning their friend up a little d'Artagnan explained how they had come to find the missing marksman.

'Athos has taken Simon to the Chatelet, assaulting a Musketeer is not going to help him much,' said d'Artagnan as he wrapped a bandage around Aramis' head.

Porthos was wrapping bandages around Aramis' wrists, the skin rubbed raw by the musketeer's method of escape.

'Let's get you back to the garrison, then you can rest,' said Porthos as he helped his friend to stand.

'That is the best offer I have had for a long time...thank you,' said Aramis tiredly.

MMMM

After settling their injured friend in a bed in the garrison infirmary d'Artagnan and Porthos watched as the marksman fell asleep within minutes. They had managed to divest him of his doublet and boots and cover him with a blanket, but the man was too weary for anything else.

'We'll need to get some more water in him soon. He won't like it, but we'll have to wake him up,' said d'Artagnan.

'Leave 'im be for now though,' replied Porthos.

D'Artagnan looked across at Porthos who was looking at the floor lost in thought.

'This really isn't your fault, you know that don't you. Simon said he would have taken either of you to teach you both a lesson, it just happened to be Aramis who he found alone.'

Porthos looked up, the guilt had not faded from his face, 'I know, but if I 'adn't been so hands-on with Simon he might not have held a grudge against us. And Aramis only interfered because Simon was about to stab me.'

'Oh come on Porthos,' said d'Artagnan trying not to sound too exasperated, 'you know that any of us would have stopped Simon from beating those boys. I bet if you had not got there first Aramis would have stepped in.'

Porthos sighed and nodded, 'you're right,' he said, 'but it annoys me that the little twerp felt the need to hurt Aramis to get back at us both.'

'Well, he's paying for it now, isn't he,' said d'Artagnan.

'Ain't he just,' chuckled Porthos.

MMMM

Aramis wandered through the garrison gates and looked around for a moment, when he saw Porthos he walked over. Porthos could not hide the concern as he saw that his friend was still walking carefully and the bruising to his face was not much better.

'Should you be back yet?' he asked.

Aramis smiled, 'light duties, I was going spare sitting in my room all day. Why sit there when I can sit in the armoury...not that I fancy firing any guns yet.'

Porthos hummed his disapproval, he was not convinced the marksman was up to being back at the garrison. The man had spent most of the first day in the infirmary being roused every so often and forced to drink. It was obvious he was dehydrated as well as concussed. When he had fully woken up Aramis had insisted on going back to his rooms, which at the time Porthos had thought was a good idea, the peace would probably have done him good. But now the man was back, still looking pale, pretending he was fine. Porthos shook his head.

'I'm fine,' said Aramis.

Instead of heading for the armoury he turned towards the stables, taking Porthos with him, leading him by the arm.

'Where are we going?'

'You'll see, this is one of the reasons I wanted to come back today…'

Porthos wondered what Aramis was going on about as he allowed himself to be led into the stables. He paused by his usual horse and allowed him to sniff at his hands.

'Monsieur Porthos,' came a young voice from behind him.

Porthos turned, surprised, the voice belonged to the lad he had saved from being hit at Labelle's estate.

'What?'

Aramis, who was resting his hand on the boy's shoulder was smiling at him. The other two stable boys from the estate were hovering by one of the stalls.

'Athos spoke to Treville about them, the lads we've got at the moment will start to leave soon, they're all almost grown up...So Treville said we could hire these three as replacements.'

'What about Labelle?'

'What about him?'

'Won't 'e complain that we've nicked three of his stableboys?'

'You know the message we had to deliver to him?'

Porthos nodded.

'Apparently whatever it contained encouraged Labelle to quit his estate and leave the area. These three,' Aramis indicated the boys, 'were out of a job anyway.'

'Handy,' said Porthos.

Aramis smiled saying, 'isn't it,' he turned to the boys, 'you lads pay attention to the older boys, they know what they're doing. Musketeer horses are special.'

'We'll learn everything there is to learn monsieur.'

The other boys nodded their agreement before they all returned to their duties.

'Some lessons are useful,' said Aramis as he and Porthos walked back to the yard.

The End.

Authors note: Sorry, dear reader, but I have caught up again, there is no more backlog of stories. You will have to wait. I have another, longer, story planned out but have not started to write it yet.

Thanks for your lovely reviews.


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